


Best Laid Plans

by Arukou



Series: Tumblr Archive the Second [10]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Hopeless Romantics, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Some suggestions of off-screen sex, Surprise Asgardian Antics, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 23:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou
Summary: Tony is ready to cater to all of Steve's hopelessly romantic tendencies.





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> So I have zero memory of writing this, but I was checking my WIP folder the other day and there it was. Now I shall post it. At precisely the wrong time of year for it (nearly six months from Valentine's Day.) Beware cavities.

It only takes three weeks of Steve living in the tower for Tony to understand—Steve’s a hopeless romantic. He cries when Pepper forces them to watch _The Notebook_ (Tony only realizes afterward that _The Notebook_ might hit a little close to home for Steve, so maybe he gets a pass, but then he cries at _A Walk to Remember_ and _Sweet Home Alabama_ , too, so clearly it’s more than just the Alzheimer’s storyline.). In his free time, Steve looks at pictures of homeless baby kittens on the internet and tweets about them, begging New York to adopt, as well as spay and neuter their pets. He reads novels that have tawdry harlequin covers and absolutely doesn’t flinch when Tony teases him about it. Steve Rogers is quite possibly the most hopeless romantic on the planet.

Six months later, when Tony asks Steve out on a date, Steve brings a huge bouquet of lavender and blue and yellow irises, as well as an obscenely large bag of chocolate covered espresso beans. “I know chocolates are traditional, but I figured with your caffeine addiction…”

Tony looks up the meaning behind the flowers later and has to sit down for a moment, because “admiration?” “Faith and hope?” It’s hard to wrap his head around. “Passion” on the other hand… Well, Steve’ll figure out soon enough that Tony hasn’t got very many admirable qualities, what with the booze and the playboy reputation and the ability to screw up virtually any battle plan, literal or figurative. And the faith and hope? Tony’s probably going to disabuse Steve of those ideas, too. In the meantime, Tony can definitely answer the “passion” count with equal fire. Needless to say, his lingerie collection goes over well with Steve a few weeks later.

And they date. And fight. And kiss and make up. And hang around Avengers Tower with the other Avengers, draped in each other’s laps and sticking noses in each other’s business and forming the kind of family Tony always secretly hoped for when he was a kid and gave up on entirely when Jarvis died.

And suddenly eight months have gone by and Steve still hasn’t put away his misguided ideas of “faith” and “hope” and “admiration.” And somehow, Tony can’t break the…the _something_ he sees shining from Steve’s eyes when he looks at him. So for Valentine’s Day, Tony’s going to pull out all the stops. He’s going to do everything Steve’s stupidly romantic heart could possibly want.

The day of, Tony has fifty bouquets of flowers delivered—thick clusters of red and orange roses, sunflowers, sweet peas, tulips, yellow irises and gladiolas. Their bedroom smells like a greenhouse, but Tony hopes Steve appreciates the effort Tony took hauling up bouquet after bouquet and arranging them over the furniture and floor. Interspersed with the flowers are candles tall and short, fat and tapered, unscented and flickering in the draft of the tower climate control. On the tiny table near the floor to ceiling windows, Tony hires a chef to serve out Steve’s favorite foods. There’s pad thai and sushi, enchiladas and corned beef, little baby bell peppers and corn on the cob. It’s a weird spread, but Tony wants Steve to have what he likes best and the man eats like a horse, so it’s not like the food will go to waste.

For dessert, Tony’s a little more suggestive. Chocolate dipped strawberries, chocolate fondue (Steve told him the fondue story one night, drunk on Thor’s moonshine, and Tony hasn’t forgotten), perfect white peaches split in two, bananas sitting suggestively in their peels, and ice cream on the side. There’s no booze—Tony’s been cutting back and Steve only wants to get tipsy once in a blue moon anyway. Besides, he wants to remember this. He wants _Steve_ to remember this.

After dinner entertainment includes all the sappiest romance movies Tony could think of: _When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, Chocolat, Shakespeare in Love_. He sincerely hopes that somewhere midway through, they break off to more pleasurable activities, because he’s not sure he can take the tooth-rotting fluff and he’s pretty sure _Shakespeare in Love_ will make Steve cry. _Sleepless in Seattle_ might too, come to think of it.

By five o’clock, he’s got it all set up and the food is being kept warm in the oven, ready to be whisked out the moment Steve gets home. Tony’s surveying the lot of it proudly, hands on his hips, when he glances outside. There’s a dark little speck against the setting sun, flitting to and fro over New York. Sam? Was Sam running maneuvers today? Maybe Thor? But then the speck grows bigger. And bigger. And Tony stares with deepening dread as what he thought was a human resolves into a giant red…bird thing. And it’s heading straight for Avengers Tower. It would be almost comical—the way the bird’s eyes lock with Tony’s, the rattling shriek it gives, it’s clear collision course with Tony’s penthouse suite—if Tony hadn’t just spent six hours planning and executing the perfect Valentine’s Day evening.

The crash of the glass is deafening, and JARVIS is already wrapping Tony in armor before he can even begin to turn away from the impact. The bird thing is maybe fifteen feet tall, and it hunches forward like some parody of Quasimodo as it lumbers into the penthouse, head swinging wildly as flower petals and stray leaves flutter around it. It's whuffling loudly, and after a moment, Tony realizes it must be sniffing. “What in the actual hell? JARVIS?”

“I can only hypothesize, sir, but the creature does appear to share radiation signatures with Thor.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Did he bring a pet? Do I need to explain the house rules?”

At just that moment, Thor appears, dressed in normal Earth clothes and breathless, and he slips in through the hole the bird thing has put into Tony’s beautiful tower. “Anthony! A most fortuitous blessing upon you. Steven must be so pleased.”

“I…I…what? You call this a blessing?” Tony gestures to his trashed bedroom, the candles melting onto the carpeting (thank god nothing is on fire yet) and the flowers now being tugged through the air by the draft. Thor steps further into the room, glass crunching underfoot.

“I do not know how it came to Midgard, but this is the Asgardian Rupicola. It is a great omen of true love, and comes to roost only where a couple will consummate their dedication to each other.”

Tony blinks and blinks again, staring up at the huge bird. “You’re telling me this thing showed up because Steve and I were going to bone tonight?”

Thor opens his mouth to answer, but suddenly, Tony’s door bursts open and Steve barrels in, shield at the ready. He’s in his civvies, but that doesn’t stop him from immediately putting himself between the bird thing and Tony.

“Steven! Congratulations my friend! Your venture succeeded!”

Tony’s about to tell Thor that a giant hole is nothing to be congratulating anyone on, but then Steve glances back and he’s _blushing_ and it’s the same blush he gets when Tony manages to gather up his courage and use all those romantic words Steve likes to hear, like “You’re beautiful” and “You make me happy” and “I love you.” “Steve?” Tony asks, popping the mask, because he definitely hasn’t said anything yet to make Steve blush like that.

“Thor told you?”

“Told me what?”

Thor is looking more and more mortified by the second. “Has the Rupicola somehow come early? Has there not yet been consummation?”

Steve winces, his face positively aflame, and turns to Tony, the shield drooping at his side and his feet shuffling. He looks like some big puppy who got caught nipping off the dog kibble stash. “Steve?” Tony asks, stepping closer.

“Thor kind of spoiled the surprise. I uh…I …” Steve gulps hugely and then drops to one knee and Tony’s world tilts sideways. Steve’s digging in the pocket of his leather jacket, and Tony can almost see the embarrassment steaming off of him. And there’s a ring, _the_ ring, clutched between Steve’s long fingers, slim and smooth and shining in the evening light.

Tony’s brain stutters like a backfiring engine and then he drops to his knees, grabbing at Steve’s face. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Was gonna surprise you,” Steve says, and he looks so put out, especially when a lily splats right on his cheek. Tony laughs and kisses him, the flower petals catching between their lips

“Yes, you utterly hopeless romantic. Of course, yes, yes.”

“Hopeless romantic? Me?” Steve says, grinning between kisses. “I’m not the one who filled the bedroom with flowers.” JARVIS tactfully shucks Tony’s left arm repulsor so Steve can slip the ring on and then they’re kissing and laughing in the chilly February draft, right up until the Rupicola lets out a deafening screech.

“The Rupicola blesses this union,” Thor booms, clapping both Tony and Steve on the shoulder. “Fortune is upon you my friends.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Tony says, grinning like a maniac and helping Steve to his feet. “You’re paying for our Valentine’s meal, after all, seeing’s as your weird Asgardian bird ruined ours.”

Thor nods and laughs and agrees and then promptly bails on paying for their dinner to return the bird to Asgard. The cheapskate. It doesn’t really matter. Steve’s hand is warm in Tony’s, the ring a heady reminder on his finger. Tony has JARVIS order pizza, and he and Steve retire to a guest room, where the night continues on more or less as Tony planned it except with less chocolate and more sappy grinning. He maybe cries and grins during _When Harry Met Sally_ , but Steve’s crying and grinning too, so it doesn’t really matter.

**Author's Note:**

> Please do google Rupicola. Please do. You can find me on [tumblr](http://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/) for more fanfiction and nerdery.


End file.
